


This Isn't What It Looks Like, I swear!

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 04:47:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: Anita, Huggy's long-time barmaid is showing signs of stress. Starsky and Hutch must find the cause and correct the situation.





	This Isn't What It Looks Like, I swear!

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to the Friday Fiction Prompt on the S&H Fans&FanFiction FaceBook page last week. The prompt sentence was this story's title. Thanks, Paula.  
Much gratitude to MariaPriest for the quick beta.

Time to grab lunch at The Pits had been rare in recent weeks and Starsky was really looking forward to a meal with no threat of interruptions, for a change. Dobey was in San Francisco at a weeks-long police conference and his temporary replacement, Captain Hastings, was a laid-back commander who allowed his officers some leeway in the performance of their duties. As long as things got done, he didn’t seem to care much how. Starsky and Hutch had been in court that morning to hear the guilty verdict read on all five charges against the major drug dealer, Roland Dominic, and Hastings had been so happy, he’d given Starsky and Hutch the rest of the day off. 

Starsky slid into the booth ahead of Hutch, as usual, leaving his long-legged partner the outside seat. Since Huggy Bear appeared to be occupied with another pair of customers, Starsky raised two fingers toward the lady behind the bar. “Two beers and a couple of Specials, please, Anita,” he hollered.

“Comin’ right up, Starsky,” she answered.

Huggy meandered over and slid onto the vacant bench across from them. “How’s it hangin’ m’ brothers?”

“Can’t complain,” Hutch responded.

“‘Cause it wouldn’t do no good, right?” A sly, knowing grin split Huggy’s face. “I hear you got convictions on Dominic.”

Starsky couldn’t hide his own smile. “Guilty on all five counts, Hug.”

Hutch shrugged. “Should keep him off the streets for a couple of years, at least.”

Starsky nudged him none too gently. “Cheer up, Hutch! You know the D.A.’s going for maximum on each count and the judge ain’t known for lenient sentences. Maybe we’ll be retired by the time Dominic gets out.”

All three were chuckling when Anita brought the beers but Starsky noticed that, instead of her usual bright, sunny smile, Huggy’s long-time barmaid had red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks.

After she’d left, Starsky leaned toward Huggy. “What’s wrong, Hug? I’ve never seen Anita anything but cheerful. And I swear she’s been crying.”

Huggy cast a worried look after Anita. “She won’t tell me.”

“How long’s she been like this?” Hutch asked.

“‘Bout a week,” Huggy said.

Starsky watched Anita behind the bar. She made all the necessary moves but it was obvious that her heart wasn’t in it. She appeared both scared and angry. Starsky looked back at Huggy. “Does she have man problems?”

Huggy shook his head. “Not that I know of.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “I think it’s got something to do with her son.”

Starsky couldn’t hide his surprise. “Didn’t know she had one.”

Huggy leaned back in the booth. “He’s been living with his grandmother ever since Anita divorced that asshole husband of hers.”

Starsky shared a confused look with his partner before turning his gaze back to Huggy. “We didn’t even know she was married.”

“Not many people did,” Huggy admitted. “And that’s the way she wanted it. But he had some pull in divorce court and the only way Anita could keep at least partial custody of Andrew was if she agreed to his living with his grandmother. Anita and the boy’s father split weekends with him.”

“Sounds complicated,” Hutch observed.

Huggy nodded. “It was. But things were working out fine until Mrs. Jefferson slipped and fell at the market and had to go into a rehab center. Andrew’s staying with his father until Anita’s mom is back on her feet. And the doctors say that could be months.”

When Huggy didn’t continue, Starsky prodded, “And…?’

Huggy sighed. “I’m not sure of this, because Anita won’t tell me, but I think Andrew’s run into trouble at his new school.”

Hutch scowled. “Why would he have to go to a new school?”

“Andrew’s father lives way across town.” Huggy shrugged with futility. “No way to get him all the way over to his old one.”

“That’s gotta be tough on the kid,” Starsky noted.

Right then, Anita came to the booth carrying a tray with two Specials and three beers. She distributed the plates to Starsky and Hutch and put the brews in front of each of them. 

Starsky caught her eye. “Sit down, Anita.” When she hesitated, he gave her his most persuasive lop-sided grin. “Please?”

Hutch caught her hand when she began to turn away. “It’s just us here, Anita, and we can see you’re hurting.” He lit the room with his smile. “Talk to us.”

Clearly against her will, she pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat down. 

When she didn’t begin right away, Starsky prompted gently. “We’re all pretty good listeners.”

She shot one accusatory look at Huggy. “My boss squeal on me, did he?”

Before Huggy could defend himself, Starsky waved a hand. “Not his fault. I’m the one that noticed you’d been crying. Huggy only mentioned that it might have something to do with your son.”

She almost physically deflated and her eyes filled with tears. “He’s right.”

Hutch put a hand on her arm. “Tell us what’s happened.”

She met his eyes and the tears spilled. Hutch handed her a napkin and she wiped them away. “I’ve been picking him up after school and taking him to his father’s. For the last week or so, he’s had fresh bruises on his face every day but he won’t talk to me.” She wiped more tears. “His father doesn’t seem to care.”

“Which school?” Starsky asked.

“Clifton Junior High,” Anita answered.

Starsky exchanged a look with Hutch and Hutch voiced their concern. “That’s a rough part of town.”

“I know,” Anita replied. “But there’s nothing I can do until my mother’s out of rehab. Then he can go back to Central, where he was doing so well.”

“What time do you pick him up?” Starsky began eating his burger.

“Two o’clock,” she replied.

Hutch ate a French fry while he and Starsky held a silent, conversation. After Starsky gave his unspoken assent, Hutch turned back to Anita. “Tell you what, Starsky and I’ll pick Andrew up this afternoon.”

“Oh, please…” Anita sat forward. “I don’t want you to get involved in --”

“If your son’s having some trouble,” Starsky interrupted, “we _need_ to be involved. It could be a police matter.”

She started crying again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want anyone to know, I was hoping I could figure something out myself.”

Hutch patted her hand, then held it. “You’re our friend, Anita. If Andrew’s having any kind of difficulty, Starsky and I’ll sort it out. You can trust us.”

The expressions on Anita’s face morphed slowly through fear, worry and sorrow to, finally, hope. Starsky wasn’t comfortable with her obvious gratitude and changed the subject. “Do you have a picture of Andrew?”

She jumped up and ran behind the bar, ducking down out of sight. Starsky exchanged concerned looks with Huggy and his partner but no one said a word. After a few moments, Anita straightened up and hurried back to the booth. She handed Hutch a small photo. Starsky peered over Hutch’s shoulder.

Andrew was a good looking boy with strong features and a direct gaze. Without ever having met him, Starsky realized he wanted to do everything he could to help this young man. 

Anita nailed each of them with a teary-eyed look. “Thank you.” Putting the chair back where it had been, she walked away.

Huggy took a long swallow of his beer. “You remember the kids in that part of town, Starsky? They’re no better behaved these days then they were when you and I were their age and we had a few run-ins with them.”

Hutch perked up. “Is this a story I need to hear?”

Huggy huffed. “Put your deer-stalker hat and magnifying glass away, Sherlock. That was ancient history.”

Hutch laughed. “Those accoutrements were strictly Basil Rathbone’s idea of Holmes, Huggy, they weren’t any part of the literature.”

Huggy chuckled, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. “So sue me!” He put his beer down and stared at Starsky, then Hutch. “What are you going to do this afternoon?”

Starsky finished his burger and checked, wordlessly, with Hutch. “We’ll play it by ear, Hug.”

Hutch stole one of Starsky’s last fries, grinning at Starsky’s expected soft hand-slap. “Mostly, we’ll try to get Andrew to talk to us. He probably needs to tell someone what’s been happening and obviously his mother and father aren’t the ones.”

“We’ll take care of it, Hug.” Starsky tried to sound positive. 

Huggy slid out of the booth. “Will you let me know?”

Hutch nodded. “Count on it, Mr. Bear.”

After their friend had left, Starsky looked at his watch. “What do you say we go scout the neighborhood around Andrew’s school, Ollie?”

“You’re reading my mind, Stanley.”

*******

The streets and alleys surrounding Clifton Junior High had seen better days. There was litter everywhere and half the storefronts and businesses were boarded up. The school, itself, squatted between a retread tire shop and a huge liquor store. 

Just as Starsky parked the Torino across the street from the main entrance, the double doors flew open and dozens of youngsters poured out, running. They quickly coalesced into groups of boys and girls and headed in all directions. 

Starsky glanced at the photo of Andrew, then at Hutch. “This may not be as easy as we thought.”

Hutch put a hand on his arm and pointed. “Isn’t that him?”

Starsky looked at the picture again before staring at the young man standing at the top of the stairs, having clearly just exited the building. He was scanning the cars lined up along both sides of the street, undoubtedly expecting to see his mother’s vehicle.

“Yeah,” Starsky said. “Looks like it.”

Before Starsky and Hutch could exit the car, four young toughs came out behind Andrew and two of them grabbed his arms. The boy on Andrew’s right snagged Andrew’s book bag and slung it to another of the four. Whatever words were spoken were unheard by Starsky and Hutch but they could tell that Andrew was scared.

As if they’d practiced the maneuver, the four kids hustled Andrew down the stairs, paying no attention to his protests, and along the sidewalk toward the tire shop. 

Starsky and Hutch got out of the Torino and followed. By the time they’d turned into the alley next to the tire place, they heard sounds of scuffling and cries of fear. Starsky began to run, with Hutch right beside him.

Reaching the rear of the shop, Starsky skidded to a halt, Hutch at his shoulder. Probably unconsciously, they’d both drawn their guns.

Andrew was being held, face down, in a long galvanized tub of water by two of the young men. The other two were standing to the side, laughing and shouting encouragement. “This’ll teach him,” one of them said. “Hold him under!” yelled the other. “See if any air leaks out!”

Starsky and Hutch ran forward, their guns trained on the group. “Let him up!” Starsky’s voice wasn’t raised but the authority in the tone stopped the brutality immediately.

The two boys holding Andrew backed away and Andrew fell to the ground, sputtering and coughing.

Hutch ran to him, holstering his Python. “Easy, Andrew, take it easy. We’re friends of your mother’s.”

One of the toughs straightened up and plastered an appeasing expression on his face. “This isn’t what it looks like. I swear!”

Starsky didn’t even try to modify his glower. “Oh, I think it is. Because what it looked like to me was attempted murder.”

“What?” All four kids began to protest and deny. “No way.” “We were just jokin’ around.” “We weren’t gonna really hurt him.”

“Shut up!” Hutch bellowed, helping Andrew to his feet. He pulled his badge wallet from his pocket and flipped it open. “We’re police officers and you four are under arrest.”

“No, listen…” Andrew broke Hutch’s hold and sat on the edge of the tub. “I don’t want to press charges.”

Starsky stalked forward, right into the faces of the four badasses, the Beretta still a definite presence. “You won’t have to, kid, because my partner and I observed exactly what these guys were doing. And what we saw was, at the very least, assault. The attempted murder charge will be up to the District Attorney.”

Starsky holstered his weapon, pulled his handcuffs out and cuffed the wrists of two of the gang together. 

Hutch did the same with the other two, linking all four. “Maybe you’ll think twice the next time you start to do something you say isn’t what it looks like.” 

Starsky headed for the Torino. “Keep an eye on ‘em, Hutch. I’ll call for back up and a paramedic unit.”

“No, wait!” Andrew stood up, clearly not liking the paramedic idea. “I’m okay. Really! You don’t need to call --”

Hutch put a steadying hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Procedure, Andrew. We need to find out if you got any of that filthy water in your lungs.”

*******

Later, at The Pits, Anita had her arm around Andrew who looked only slightly put out by his mother’s show of affection.

Hutch smiled at Anita. “The paramedics checked him out. Said Andrew might have a little trouble with his lungs for a while - that air leak testing tank didn’t have the cleanest water. They didn’t think he needed to go to the hospital.”

When Anita began to show signs of anxiety over that information, Andrew patted her hand. “I’m fine, Mom. I held my breath.” He looked at Hutch and the Thank You was in his eyes. “Couldn’t have held it much longer, though. Sure glad you showed up when you did.”

“And have you changed your mind about pressing charges?” Starsky asked.

Andrew nodded. “Yes, sir, I have! Those guys’ve been hassling me from day one and I was afraid. Hate to admit it, but I was.”

“No shame in that, son,” Hutch said.

Andrew appeared relieved. “I appreciate that, thanks.” 

Anita bestowed her happiest smile on Starsky and Hutch. “My mother’s doing much better than expected and the doctor thinks she’ll be able to go home by next week.”

Huggy ushered the group to a central table. “That’s great,” he said as they all took seats. “So Andrew’ll be back at Central before the Tormenting Four come to trial. Right, Starsky?”

Starsky nodded and put a hand over Anita’s still-clenched one. “It turns out they’ve been in a lot of trouble before and the D.A. has decided not to let them get away with this. He’s going for attempted murder. Bail, when it’s set at tomorrow’s hearing, will probably be too high for their parents to pay. Those clowns’ll be in jail until a judge and jury decide their fate.”

Hutch cast an approving look at Starsky before addressing the others. “A few years in juvie probably won’t do anything except teach them assorted illegal skills but at least it will take them off our streets for a while.”

Diane approached, ready to take orders. 

Huggy waved munificently. “Drinks and dinners are on the house, my friends. This has been a good day for the Good Guys!”


End file.
